


Iatrogenesis

by KumoriYami



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Dark, Depressing, Discrimination, Dragon Age Kink Meme, Emotional Baggage, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Please note the warnings, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse, Trespasser Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 17:01:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7692442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KumoriYami/pseuds/KumoriYami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the F!Lavellan is used to noncon prompt on the DAKmeme:</p><p>f!lavellan and her party is ambushed by bad guys (red templars, bandits, venatori, anything works) and during their brief captivity, she was raped in front of her party members. After their rescue, the other party members are burdened by guilt and are ready for their leader to break down, only for lavellan to be completely calm and almost blase about it. </p><p>Thinking that their leader was just putting on a tough front for their benefit, they try to coax her, assuring her that it's alright to break down in front of them. Instead, Lavellan informs them that during her life as a nomad Dalish, non consensual sex has been an unavoidable part of her life - from being captured by Templars to angry villagers to having sex as a bargaining tool so her clan could be safe, Lavellan had pretty much accepted that it's just something that happens to her. </p><p>Cue her party member's reactions - Are they sad? angry? horrified? even more guilty? prefer either Solas and Sera to be the LI, if there's any, as they more often define being Dalish on the things that they got wrong - How would they feel about this?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Iatrogenesis

**Author's Note:**

> Original prompt from: http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/15543.html?thread=61308855#t61308855  
> While I don’t have everything OP was looking for, I think I covered some of it. Reposted due to date issue though it was only up for like 5 minutes before I realized that...  
> Please note the tags before continuing to read!
> 
> The title, 'Iatrogenesis' is the closest word that I could come up with for healing the wrong way, and can be defined as "any injury or illness that occurs because of medical care," so I might change the title if someone can suggest a medical term with a better fit....if you do, i'd greatly appreciate it.
> 
> Regarding the prompt, I've been wanting to fill it as soon as I saw it, especially because of my views on discrimination. It's not surprising for the elves in the world of DA to have to go through such a thing, but there are unfortunately some parallels you can see in real life regarding how victims from minorities and how their case pleads against the seemingly more privileged. I consider myself incredibly lucky to never have experienced such discrimination despite how I am a member of a visible minority. I've never really paid attention to that though, mainly because I've never had to. My ancestral nationality has been widespread enough in addition to others in the neighbourhoods I’ve lived in, so seeing people treated differently based on reasons such as 'race', (honestly I find that stupid since regardless of what a person looks like, they're homo sapien. pure and simple) religion, gender and skin colour has always bothered me to no end, reinforcing how different treatments result in unfairness and travesties of justice.... and biases in criminal justice systems. It's even more disturbing to me since I've studied a bit of criminal law and firmly believe that justice _should_ be blind. 
> 
> Anyway, I haven't written anything like this in a long time, but just in case you didn't see the tags, although it's not heavily described, there are some descriptions for rape, and this is my final warning for that. If reading about non-consensual interactions are not your thing (though it's not explicit), please, hit the back button. The basis of any relationship is the need to be consensual, so while I won't deny that I like the occasional non-con story, what I read is always and only works of fiction. I don't want to see rape in my life, much less affect anyone I know.
> 
> ...I apologize in advance if anything I write offends anyway. Also, sorry for being extremely negative views in my end notes, and if this story does trigger any bad memories if you've experienced similar situations... I apologize for that as well and want you to know that while I can't express my feelings that well in words towards the anger I have towards such circumstances, I'll be glad to offer whatever support I can give, should you ever need it.

“….Well, I’m off to bed. Night everyone. Tomorrow we’ll tell Fairbanks that he and the refugees shouldn’t have to worry about anyone else bothering him anymore now that we’ve routed the remaining threats before we return to Skyhold.” No one says a word as they watch Lavellan’s figure disappear into her tent after yawning sleepily. Her almost relaxed actions however only reinforce how the unspoken notion of how disturbing it was to see her seemingly unaffected by what happened barely hours ago. There’s nothing in her mannerisms that indicated that she was even bothered in the slightest by the day’s events.

Silence reigns around the campfire and while no was saying it, Solas knew that they were all thinking about what happened earlier today, even if they didn’t want to. Red Templars had ambushed them after they eliminated the last of the Red Templars who were in league with the so-called Freemen of the Dales, of which one of them was an acquaintance of Commander Cullen’s. The fight had been fairly brutal and although they had emerged triumphant, it was not without injury.

The ambush came when they had been at their weakest, carried out by Red Templars, likely ones who worked closely to Samson at one point given the letters about red lyrium they had located after killing them, but only after the damage had been done… it didn’t seem to matter.

When he recalled what happened, Solas could not but feel disheartened. He had never felt more regretful that he lacked power than he ever had in all his years as he, Varric and Cassandra were forced to watch Lavellan being defiled. They were unfortunately powerless to stop the Red Templars to continue as they had been savagely beaten, and unable to fight back.

To his horror upon capture, those humans had specifically pulled Lavellan after imprisoning the rest of them, rejoicing how they finally had an elf to use, not even knowing or caring that she was the Inquisitor. Solas had done his best to tune out the detestable human gloating of triumphs as they tore off her clothes and armour as they pinned her to the forest grounds as he did his best to help Varric recover his strength so that he could free them of their bonds and the cage they had been thrown into, but it did nothing to alleviate the pain that was carved into his very being as he listened to Lavellan’s cries of pain.

She had done her best to resist her assailants, and their actions, but Solas unfortunately knew that she had little chance of escaping the situation as a mage depleted of her mana against multiple Templars whose physiques she could not compare to. No matter how much he wished for the situation to change, he was just as helpless as his heart was. He could do nothing as monster after monster repeatedly violated the woman who had coaxed emotion back into him.

It had taken a fair amount of time for him to restore one of Varric’s arms which had been dislocated along with his fingers that had been smashed given his own lack of mana, and even longer to heal Cassandra’s broken sword arm. During that time, but each second felt like an age as they prepared to turn the situation around. Aside from checking on Cassandra and Varric’s conditions, both of whom only gritted their teeth and averted their eyes from such a heinous spectacle, his gaze never left his vhenan’s distraught eyes as he heard her pray to Mythal under her breath and for the Dread Wolf to destroy their enemies… which was just as futile in moving her assailants as her tears. 

The sad irony of her pleas were not lost on him as he forced himself to listen, forcing himself to endure whatever pain she was going through, though it only served to fuel his anger at those Red Templars. That rage showed no signs of being extinguished even after they had rescued Lavellan and destroyed their captors.

Solas had immediately covered her up, not even daring to see whatever damage had been done after she had been desecrated so many times, and by various strangers. He could always check for wounds later, but at that time, he was more concerned with getting his vhenan to safety, leaving it to the others to check their surroundings.

Unsurprisingly, they all wanted to get of the area given their levels of disgust at the corpses that had still been warm as they proceeded to head back to one of the Inquisition’s outposts. They however were not able to get very far given their physical states, and it was why they were currently camping out at a temporary location by the Rush of Sighs.

The location wasn’t terrible at least, with water flowing nearby and a natural half-decent defensive position given the large rocks in the area, so it was acceptable by Solas’ standards. He was distraught beyond words as Lavellan had to be practically carried by him and Cassandra in order to walk, but once they had settled down, she insisted that he take care of the others’ wounds as her mana had recovered a certain degree.

Solas of course wanted to reject the notion of Lavellan healing herself since he wanted to be the one to carefully inspect and heal what damage had been caused, but realistically, it was safer for him to tend to the others. Although she gave a small smile as she quietly bandaged herself before setting up make-shift tents for them to rest in, Solas was sure that she was trying her best to put up a strong front. She did thankfully take some medicine he brewed for her, though that was the only form of help she accepted.

As the Inquisitor, he had rarely seen her shown signs of weakness, though it was likely more appropriate to say that she couldn’t. Her position was not so unlike his own when he waged a war with against the Evanuris, but at that time, he had others he could depend on who could share his burden. Unlike him, she carried everything alone… an unfortunate direct result of having been marked by his magic, leaving her the only one capable of sealing the Breach. When she was with others, Lavellan was always a bit more guarded, and it was only when she was alone or he was beside her, had he been able to he catch her rare unguarded moments. Sometimes she would break down, lamenting the lost and crying for those she was powerless to help though it was natural given the degree of the duty imposed on her despite how no one should have endured such pressures alone…

Watching her retire now, he, Cassandra and Varric all seem to let out a collective breath as they turn to each other with obviously vacant expressions.

“Chuckles, are you-?” The dwarf’s brow immediately furrow as they exchange looks at one another. Amongst Lavellan’s inner circle, Varric was undoubtedly the most caring, always poking his nose into other people’s affairs to see if he could lend his assistance despite how it caused him to seem rather intrusive.

“I am fine. I am more worried about her…” Solas’ gaze looks towards Lavellan’s tent, shaking his head with unmistakable sorrow as the words seem to fall back into his throat. “She already has enough to deal with because of Corypheus and the Breach. Adding more to her burden… I fear that she will not take this well.”

No one needs for him to specify what he was referring to.

“Maker, I’m going to be sick…” Cassandra’s voice is extremely soft as she gazes into the fire. The pain he feels in his heart is reflected in the Seeker’s eyes and her extremely bitter tone as he sees her fists clenching. She no doubt felt responsible for what happened, as he did. “I should have known we were being followed.” Although no one refutes her words, it was left unspoken that even if they had been on alert, due to their circumstances at the time, it would have been likely had the same result. “I should have been stronger…”

 _If only._ It was wishful thinking to want to have been stronger, but he could emphasize with that more than anyone knew…. If he had been stronger then he would never have to witness his vhenan being dishonoured before him, and she would never have had to experience such abuse…

“Varric, you should get some rest. We’ll take care of the watch.” Out of all of them aside from Lavellan, Varric had been in the worst shape following the ambush. Although lacerations were easier to heal, broken bones still required time in order to recover, regardless of how much magic was used.

“Call me if anything happens.” Varric’s voice, is likewise as quiet as Cassandra’s but he doesn’t make a sign of protest. It would be pointless to try arguing with Cassandra and Solas would vehemently refuse even the notion of resting while he guarded Lavellan as she recuperated. As Solas watches him slip into a tent, he could not help but feel slightly envious. Varric wouldn’t dream as a dwarf, and that equally meant that he wouldn’t revisit what happened and wouldn’t be plagued by nightmares of caused by their own inability to stop such heinous transgressions…

If there was ever a time the gift of dreaming was akin to a curse, this would indisputably be the only time Solas wished that he could sleep and see nothing. Even if he could control his own dreams, he would do nothing to stop himself from reliving the same nightmare over and over again as a reminder of his shame and guilt… He, the Dread Wolf, the one elf who managed to strike the most world-changing offensive against the Evanuris who could leave fear in the hearts of the most powerful tyrants the world no longer remembered, leaving the state of the world completely altered, had been able to do nothing in the face of tragedy…

Silence reigns around the campfire aside from the cackle of wood and the running of water as Solas sinks into contemplation. All he could think about was if he had done something differently to have prevented such a disaster from occurring. It was a pointless exercise of self-loathing, but one that he forced himself to do since he didn’t want to think of his vhenan breaking down because of what happened…

* * *

“Solas…” Cassandra practically has to shake his shoulder to get his attention sometime after the first lights of day breaks.

“What is it?” Letting out a deep breath, he does his best to rouse his mental energy to the fullest despite having stayed awake all night and after suffering serious injuries himself. Nearly the entirety of his focus had been on safeguarding his vhenan and he had spared no attention to anything else. Even now however, he could not help but feel some resentment knowing that he was just as responsible as Cassandra was in having Lavellan join the Inquisition… and that she truly never had the choice. There was bitter irony knowing that he who championed the right to freedom was quick to condemn someone who he hadn’t even known at the time into being shackled as a tool for an organization and for a cause she didn’t even know anything about, or might even care for given its initial Chantry-related origins. Perhaps if she hadn’t been pressured into joining up with the organization she would have gone back to her clan, thereby avoiding a world of troubles that no one person should ever had to bear. Safe... from all of this.

“The Inquisitor…” Seeing the reluctant expression on the Seeker’s face causes his brows to furrow slightly, but he patiently waits for her words. “Do you think her mental state will be… affected by what happened?”

“…I think it would be impossible for it not to if that happened to anyone.” He does little to hide the anger in his words for Cassandra asking the obvious, but rationally he knows she is asking because she cares and is genuinely worried. If Lavellan as the Inquisitor falls, even if Corypheus is defeated, there is no way to seal the Breach and reverse the damage it is still continuing to cause.

Cassandra, thankfully doesn’t mind his retorting, and instead nods almost gravely to his words. “As the person who knows and gets along with her best, aside from the Tevinter, what do you propose we do? For the moment, I believe that keeping what happened confidential is the best way to move forward for the moment, though telling Leliana will make it easier for us to observe if there are any…. changes in Lavellan’s behaviours.”

“For now, it would be best to keep it between us.” There was no need to doubt the spymaster’s adherence to confidentiality thankfully, but he still frowns. Lavellan deserved the utmost respect for her privacy. “We should still tell the others to look out for any changes…. The majority of them would suspect something happening if she suddenly started acting differently.”

While the others would be slightly suspicious for the reasoning of their request, they could at least be counted on not to press their curiosity. There was an almost unwritten but silent rule not to directly ask the Inquisitor if she was feeling okay, especially since no one wanted her to worry about keeping appearances around her though if they did it was usually through a more indirect way. Lavellan was already being burdened enough, and the last thing she needed to be concerned about was putting on a brave face in front of them. If anything, they would turn to someone else to ask if she was doing alright, and in this case, they would undoubtedly be asking him and Cassandra as it would be them asking for such a favour from the others.

“I can only pray to the Maker that nothing will happen.” Cassandra does not sound confident in her almost wishful sentiment.

* * *

Nothing out of the usual or dangerous occurs on the way back to Skyhold and the only thing of note that seems to happen is that Lavellan requests for a bath to be drawn for her usage almost immediately upon returning. Solas has half a mind to help her, thereby imposing his presence onto her, but he knows better not to. It would be natural for anyone to want to clean themselves in an attempt to remove any perceived and all filth after one’s body was vandalized… instead he tells her that if she needs anything, all she needs to do is ask and he will be there.

His vhenan smiles at his words, before excusing herself, and he cannot help but feel disgusted with himself. Even though she had slipped through his heart’s defences despite his own efforts and he knew what would eventually become of what they had, in the little time they had now…. He had been unable to protect that smile.

His thoughts do little to improve his mood or the growing resentment he had for his inadequacies as he, Varric and Cassandra describe what happened in the barest of details to Leliana. By the time they finish, the bard’s face is ashen, and the only words she speaks are of when asking if the perpetrators were dead after agreeing to have some of her agents keep an eye on any changes in Lavellan’s behaviour should they come across her.

Following that meeting, none of them say a word, and Solas does not doubt that everyone was once again feeling sick down to their stomachs. Still, between the three of them, there is a unanimous decision to remain vigilant, and if not be even more attentive to the Inquisitor in the days to come as they expect nothing less than the worse to occur.

Contrary to their expectations in the hours that go by that eventually turn into days, no one speaks of anything out of the ordinary. According to the Leliana’s spies and the others’ observations, there was nothing Lavellan was doing that was different from her usual routine. She threw herself into the Inquisition’s efforts with the same energy. She had the same unwavering passion when procuring supplies and necessities to refugees and the Inquisition’s soldiers. She spent the same amount of time going over every report that needed reading, the same time planning activities and excursions in the regions of Ferelden and Orlais that required her help, the same amount of time and effort in improving her own skills, and about the same amount of time being in the company of their friends. Beyond that, there were also no changes in her anxiety, diet, or social and sleep habits.

However, the more Lavellan appeared seemingly normal and unchanged, the greater the unease that he, Varric and Cassandra felt.

“Solas, spill it. Even if I can’t match your affinity for the Fade, I can still tell when someone throws up a barrier to isolate sound.” Dorian’s expression is between cold and concerned as his gaze shifts between him, Varric and Cassandra after yet another one of their meetings which had the same fruitless findings in the Undercroft. To the mage’s side was the Qunari who had his own suspicions, but had undoubtedly drawn the same conclusions. It was extremely late and the majority of Skyhold aside from the guard had retired for the night.

It was unfortunately unsurprising for the two to call them out. Bull likely recognized that they were hiding something and therefore something was wrong, and Dorian probably thought it was blatantly obvious that something has happened to his best friend given how the three of them had become growingly concerned in her behaviour.

Lavellan thankfully was nowhere near Skyhold though. She, along with Vivienne, Blackwall and Cole were supposed to be dealing with Venatori, gathering books stolen from a Circle and possibly darkspawn outbreaks. Or at least that’s what she had said when she had left with them though she wasn’t sure when they would return.

Privately, Solas was relieved that she had taken Cole with her. Although he had a genuine friendship with the unusual spirit, he had no desire to hear compassion echo his own self-hatred, speak of what happened to his vhenan, or even of the pain that Lavellan was going through and had consequently avoided him. He was terrified to even consider thinking that his vhenan could no longer bear the pressure she was suffering from, and would collapse as a result of such a burden that had been chained to her hands and feet. Regardless of what he wished, he couldn’t protect her from mental pain and damage and although it was in Cole’s nature to help, Solas could also not bring himself to accept his good-will, but also didn’t have it within himself to refuse compassion.

“Look, we already know you’re worried about something. That’s why we waited for the Inquisitor to leave.” Compared to Dorian, Bull looks more… neutral though his one eye is still as sharp as ever. Still it showed significant consideration on their part to only confront them about what was bothering them until after Lavellan left especially given the agitation the Tevinter mage had begun exhibiting. “All we want to know is what happened. Beyond that, we won’t bother you guys bout anything else.”

“Look Tiny, what happened is not our secret to tell.” Varric frowns as he turns to their friends and there is an obvious reluctance in his eyes as he exchanges a glance to him, almost as if to apologize. “It’s not that we can’t, but we really shouldn’t, and I’m not the one who should be giving that permission.”

Solas sighs almost immediately hearing Varric’s words as he feels his heart being crushed again. It was not secret that he was the one involved in the Inquisitor, but he could tell that neither the dwarf of the Seeker felt that they had the right to what happened from her closest friends if they could help her. None of them wanted to force the Inquisitor to discuss what happened, but at the same time they believed that if she initiated the conversation it would hopefully help her.

“Solas, you…” Cassandra’s brow furrows as she looks at him, her expression similar to when she had thrown up following what happened. The inner turmoil felt by them and Leliana had continued to grow and had shown no signs of being mollified in any way. “You should not feel that you need to do this.”

Solas sighs as turns to Dorian and the Iron Bull, clenching his teeth while his fingers dig into his palms in hesitation. His mouth feels dry as he swallows just before he starts, but Dorian quickly raises his hand with a resolute look in his eyes.

“Solas, regardless of what happened, I need to know. No matter how painful it is to say and to hear as Lavellan’s best friend. If I knew something happened yet did nothing to help her, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself even if that meant she cut all ties with me. If she doesn’t forgive me for forcing you to tell me, I couldn’t care less as long as it meant that she was okay.” Dorian takes in a deep breath and his entire demeanour is unwavering as he speaks. “Please Solas…. tell me what happened.”

And so he does.

* * *

His mouth feels parched when he finishes despite not actually saying much, and everyone is looking a bit green and grey as they sit in silence. Solas himself finds that he is fighting to keep bile down as he swallows at the end though his chest feels a bit lighter, but not by much.

“Maker’s breath…. How has she been able to act like nothing has happened?” Dorian’s words are soft but are the first to break the silence as his fists clench in what is likely either pain or rage. The Altus thankfully wasn’t one to contemplate the what-ifs or whatever else should have be done in such a situation and it was within their capabilities to rewrite the past. “No wonder why you three looked like corpses.”

Bull nods gravely at Dorian’s words though out of all of them he looked the calmest. “On Seheron I’ve seen how some people just keep their emotions all bottled up as if they’ve haven’t watched their closest friends die in front of them. Ignoring the pain on purpose eats away at them. Sometimes it kills them or turns them Tal-Vashoth…” The Qunari shakes his head as if to dispel such a notion or whatever grim thought he was thinking. “The boss might be going through something like that.”

While Solas doesn’t think much of the Qun in general or like how the Iron Bull views the Tal-Vashoth, he cannot deny how his words voice his unspoken worry that Lavellan was going through such trauma….

“And I’ve already seen what happens when someone gets pushed past their limit. It ends badly for them and the people around them.” Although Varric doesn’t mention anyone in particular, Solas immediately thinks of the dwarf’s story about the mage who literally ignited the start of the Mage Rebellion who found a friend in Justice but corrupted and was likewise corrupted himself by Vengeance. While Solas did not condone such violent and destructive actions, he himself acknowledged that he had no right to judge Anders given his own actions, though he did sympathize with the mage. Given the events in Kirkwall and what he knew of Anders who continuously tried fleeing the former Ferelden Circle, it was more of a surprise that he could tolerate what was going around him for so long as the events undoubtedly continued to pile frustration upon frustration in a boiling pot of scars and emotions.

“How can she act as if everything is perfectly normal?” The comment Dorian makes under his breath is barely audible, Cassandra looks as if she’s had a blade twisted into her as she lets out a deep breath and sigh.

"I... do not believe I would have the strength to do so for so long." The Seeker's visible helplessness to their situation was unfortunately something that none of them could do anything about. Aside from waiting for the proverbial bomb to go off in Lavellan, they were literally unable to do anything, and Solas did not doubt that the mentality of everyone gathered for these talks would worsen.

"Are we just waiting so see if anything happens?" Bull frowns as his gaze drifts between the four of them, though it seemed a bit wary. Out of all of them, he was the most uncomfortable with magic given his fear of demons, so it made sense for him be worried about the Inquisitor as a mage, having... emotional issues. That attitude was unfortunately typical and unsurprising given the Qun's stance on magic.

"We don't really have a choice, Tiny. None of us really want to relive what happened, much less bring up what happened to the Inquisitor so that she has to. Unless you have something better to suggest?" Although Varric answers the Qunari before he can, Solas cannot help but feel grateful at the dwarf's intervention, even with how curt it was. If Solas had answered, the situation would likely have gotten worse given his own views, and the last thing they needed was any one of them becoming more stressed out over Lavellan's situation, not when they were already at their wits end trying to figure out how to help her.

"All we can do is wait... and hope that we will be able to deal with anything that happens."

* * *

Days slowly turn into weeks, and while the injuries of bone and flesh eventually recover from what happened, Solas feels that things go from bad to worse as nothing seemed to change. No one sees any hint or sign of emotions reaching a breaking point, and their meetings were almost being viewed as pointless as a result of the lack of reaction as time went by. Even when he's alone with Lavellan, there was no indication that anything aside being responsible for the Inquisition was weighing down on her, though she does ask if there had been something bothering him. While Solas could not bring himself to answer that question truthfully, his state of mind regarding his vhenan’s mental well-being mirrored the others, who were becoming increasingly agitated in their own ways.

Most of the changes were small, for the moment anyway among them, though there was always the possibility for behaviours to escalate. Cassandra and Varric both took to increased amounts of drinking, though the Seeker limited her consumption so that she could remain sober while she destroyed more and more training dummies as the dwarf also began to write less in his spare time. While there was no change in the Iron Bull’s drinking patterns like the other two, as he still consumed vast amounts of alcohol, Solas did notice that the Qunari began using more force in his actions.

It was a fairly subtle change, but it had caused a number of people to complain more after sparring exercises with Bull as there were more bruises than before... and a number of their enemies had been beaten almost in an excessive and unnecessary way when they faced the Qunari. In contrast to all the others though, Dorian had become the most distraught of them, becoming increasingly irritable and snappy, and it reached the point where Sera and Vivienne were becoming worried at his behaviour though none of them were willing to tell anyone else about what happened.

“Ah… Solas. You look....look as nondescript as always.” Solas can’t help but furrow his brow as he sees Dorian slumped in his usual chair with a large glass of Ferelden whisky in his hand. This scene was becoming unfortunately familiar after coming down from the third level of Skyhold following talks and consultations with Leliana which were usually about Corypheus’ activities or Lavellan as he was the most frequently requested to accompany her.

The Altus mage looked more inebriated than usual and he seemed to have sunk into the cushioned seat as he poured himself another glass from a rather large bottle. Seeing his actions, Solas let out a sigh. “…You should probably hold back on that.”

“You want some of this? Well, you can’t have any. It’s _allllll_ mine.” Correction, the Altus mage was significantly more inebriated than usual as he clutched the bottle in his arms protectively before downing another glass. “You know… I talked to her about what happened.”

“You did what?!” Almost forgetting to control the volume of his voice, Solas can feel the anger course through his body as he glares at Dorian, who seems to not be able to see anything else as he concentrates at the bottom of his empty glass.

“You… heard me, though I have to say…. I’m getting wasted because I did.” Dorian smiles in a completely self-mocking manner for a moment as his head leans over to the side, before he pouring himself yet another glass. “Do you… do you remember what I asked before? About how she… she was carrying on like everything was… perfectly normal? In those words?”

Solas nods. Yes. He can clearly recall his own anguish following that exchange. Dorian doesn’t give him any indication that he’s even seen his response and sighs exasperatedly. “I’m afraid… that I think… that that statement wasn’t a far stretch from the truth.”

“…What do you mean by that?” While Dorian’s slurred speech made it harder to understand the Tevinter, it didn’t detract from the revelation implied, which immediately caused him to frown.

“Exactly… what I said.” Dorian’s eyes has an almost glassy look in them and there are tears in his eyes. “She told me… that what happened…. didn’t really bother her… At all... and I’m sad to say, that I’m not surprised by her reaction…. After thinking about it... as horrible as that is.”

Not waiting for a response, Dorian continues. “As someone…. who comes from the… _arguably_ most depraved nation in Thedas… There are…. countless magisters who take blood from unwilling slaves to fuel their magic. Sometimes they aren’t killed… though other times they are…. People are killed almost left and right… and if someone get murdered in the streets… no one bats an eye to such actions… since it’s become so… normalized. Which is so very... very disconcerting given how... wrong it is..”

“No one questions the wrongdoing of such actions… and honestly… I think her reaction to what happened…. is probably similar to that. Ever since the fall of Halamshiral… elves have always have it bad… and are blamed for the most nonsensical of things. Nobles of Orlais say that it…. it was the fault of the elves for the burning of their own alienages… A result from wanting basic respect and decency…. After all they wouldn't even be able to comprehend inequality since they’re not affected by it…. and unless such systematic discrimination was occurring to them… nobles wouldn’t even notice it. Even Varric told me how some insane… person was killing elven children… and blamed them for being too beautiful… saying that it was their fault for being the way they were… instead of being able to comprehend the sickness of his own mind.”

“No one wants to acknowledge the blame for their own actions… I’ve heard so many times… that it’s the elves fault… for being where they are now in the Imperium. The proverbial last straw had broken long ago for the elves…. And I daresay that it’s worse for the Dalish.”

Anger flashes in Dorian’s eyes as he downs another glass before throwing it against the wall causing it to smash into pieces upon impact. “Dalish from the Chargers… She told me before about how some Dalish women were raped simply because… of what they were wearing! Do you know how ridiculous it is to hear.... something like that? I’m no expert on the Dalish... but I know they don’t play dress up for the attention... much less for anyone other them themselves. They live off the land, for Maker’s sake!”

“It’s gotten to the point… where they don’t even bother try reporting the crimes committed against them… Lavellan even confirmed that, telling me that there’s no point to… simply because no one believes them…. or cares to spare the time to hear them…. But I digress from what I should be telling you.”

Dorian is practically seething with rage towards the injustices when their eyes meet. “Solas… the Inquisitor… I’m unfortunately suggesting that what happened to her… is something that has become… something that she’s… just come to expect. I’ve heard the most dreadful of stories with humans going after elves... because of lust, so instead of my best friend feeling… crushed by what happened, it just might be that she’s dissociated from the actual problems…. or is simply numb to it.”

“Are… are you… sure?” Solas’ voice seems to be caught in his throat upon listening to Dorian, and he’s not entirely sure that the Altus even hears him.

“It’s only conjecture given I couldn’t bring myself to ask for further details… but I’m unfortunately fairly sure that I have the right way of thinking.” Shaking his head as he sets down his half-finished bottle of whiskey, Dorian looks like he can’t even walk properly as he pulls himself to his feet with a face devoid of emotion. “I’m only telling you this… given your relationship, but it’s up to you to… ask her about it.”

It’s with great difficulty that Dorian walks away, leaving Solas certain that now more than ever, he needed to talk to her…

Now.

* * *

“Vhenan, are you all right? You look terrible.” Lavellan offers him a gentle smile as he enters her private quarters. Although it was fairly late, she always had the tendency to stay up later than usual whenever returning to Skyhold after whatever business needed to be taken care of in an effort to seemingly make up for missed work despite how she never needed to. Even now, there was a mountain of paperwork on her desk to greet him that Solas had admittedly become accustomed to before she retired to sleep in the protection of his arms.

“I was… hoping we could talk.” There is no gentle or easy way to breach the topic he desperately needs to hear about from her lips, and his agitated mood was a direct result of his contemplation on how. Dorian’s words were weighing heavily on his mind and had only dampened his mood.

Almost immediately Lavellan sets down her papers and quill, turning the entirety of her attention to him. Although the actions are peaceful, they did nothing to quell the wordless terror in his heart. “What is it?”

Her eyes are as clear and focused as always when he doesn’t say anything, only taking the initiative to pull her hand slowly, leading her away from her desk to the bed where they both sit down. If they’re to have this conversation, he’d prefer to have nothing between them and slowly pulls Lavellan into his embrace. “Solas…. What’s wrong?”

“Forgive me.” Lavellan is understandably confused with his actions, but doesn’t comment as she slips her arms around him. Her body seems to relax against his and for a while, all he concentrates is on the familiar sound of her breathing while inhaling the smell of forests and herbs that seem to permeate through her, and the feeling of her heart beating against his.

“Solas… What’s wrong? Are you feeling ill?” After a period of time that doesn’t seem to last long enough when he lets go, Lavellan’s hand gently finds its way to his forehead, pressing against it. Recognizing the magic on her hand makes him inwardly cringe, but he ignores the thoughts it provokes as shakes his head, and takes hold of her hand as if to say that wasn’t the case.

It takes a few moments for him to gather his courage and taking in several deep breaths before he manages to find the words again. The time he had spent with had been reduced to his own conflicting emotions on the subject he feared to breach. “I heard you talked about what happened in the Emerald Graves to Dorian.”

Lavllena’s brow furrows for a brief second but she still nods to him without even the slightest hesitation. “Yes and what of it?”

“Vhenan, you…” The words seems to lump again at the back of his throat, but when he sees confusion flickers her eyes for a moment in response to his behaviour, Solas knows that he must hear the truth regardless of what it may be. “Dorian said…. He mentioned that you weren’t bothered by what happened.”

“No, I wasn’t.” While asking his seemingly short question made Solas feel as if all the air has been sucked out of his body, hearing her reply causes him to feel as if he was thrown into a frozen tundra.

“Why?” It takes an almost life-struggling effort to even spit out the word, and his voice is barely audible despite the distance between them.

“Because it’s happened before. That wasn’t the first time, and I doubt it’d be the last.” Her answer is alarmingly calm as it is disturbing, but Lavellan’s matter-of-factly tone causes him to become more distraught as she shrugs her shoulders. “Is what happened there what was bothering you all this time?”

The concern for him appears almost in an instant even as Solas finds himself being thrown at despair. He can’t even find a response and only manages to nod dumbly at her words. “I had no idea this was hurting you vhenan… I’m sorry.”

 _She_ was sorry?

Why, in the name of anything and everything that ever existed in Thedas did she feel the need to be sorry?

If Lavellan’s behaviour regarding the terrible event that had befallen her that he personally perplexed him, her apology gave him an almost identical feeling the rest of the world had when he had created the Veil. It utterly disintegrated his own understanding of known and accepted truths.

“What are you apologizing for? You had nothing to do with what happened! If anyone should be sorry, it should be any one of me, Cassandra or Varric for being unable to help you! ” An almost feverish anger swells in his breast causing to him to be unconsciously be louder than he means to, but continuously seeing his vhenan’s seemingly unaffected appearance only worsened the pain he felt. “Why…. Why aren’t even the slightest bit upset?” Solas hangs his head in shame when he’s finally managed to lower his voice once he’s finally finished. Both of his hands had somehow found their way to Lavellan’s – holding onto them with the same desperation in his heart.

“Solas, if I knew this was going to bother you so much I would have said something sooner.” Lavellan takes a moment to free her hands from his as she pours them each a glass of water from the canteen that she kept by her bedside which he drinks earnestly to calm down. While he sincerely wished to hear the truth, he equally dreaded hearing it given how the implication of her earlier answer that still hadn’t completely sunk in. “Like I said, it’s just happened so many times that I’ve grown… used to it I guess.”

_It wasn’t the first time.... and it was seemingly something 'normal' for her._

“I’m not sure where to start or even how to explain this, but you know about the Templars right? And the stories where they’re known to take liberties with their charges? Well sometimes… sometimes they go satisfy those... urges outside the Circle where they don’t have to worry about anyone reporting to them for unbecoming conduct…” Hearing Lavellan talk as if such injustice had nothing to do with her causes him to feel more anger and sorrow, but Solas can’t bring himself to say anything now that she was taking the initiative to talk. “It’s for the same reason why they don’t go after our city cousins since there’s still the threat, if you will, of local authorities and vengeance-seekers, so they look outside of the shem’s settlements. It’s frankly quite easy to hear if a Dalish clan is nearby. All Templars really have to do is find someone, usually a merchant or trader, talk about some rubbish about hunting down an apostate that’s likely to taken refuge with a clan or bribe them to learn about their general location.”

“From there, it’s easy to look for the clan, see if anyone catches their eye, then wait for the moment said person gets separated from the main group…. It’s unfortunate but in our clan, most of us had to hunt and forage regardless of one’s standing because of our lack of resources...” Lavellan lets out a sigh at that, but it sounded as if she was lamenting the weakness of her own clan’s numbers and capabilities instead of her own friends and family being hunted down simply to be used for their bodies. “Templars hardly ever travel alone so it’s fairly easy for them to overwhelm small groups of hunters and take whomever suits their fancy with their physique and capabilities… though they always ensure that no one gets killed.”

“According to what I’ve heard from actual apostates who manage to find us, that although the Templars don’t seem to care much for us, many of them have fears of Dalish assassins, warriors who seemingly walk in shadows and our non-existent crazy blood magic rituals… which is why they go through great pains to ensure that no one ends up dead.” Lavellan snickers softly before moistening her lips before setting her cup aside, but it lacks her usual mirth and energy, and sounded as if she were laughing in spite of herself. “I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry about that though. We have similar reasons for us not trying not to kill any Templars we encounter since no clan can truly afford to add fuel to the shems’ growing distaste of us Dalish… the last thing we need is to give the Chantry an excuse to have any number of us killed without even calling for an Exalted March.”

“Even the elves the Templars have their way with…. aside with leaving them with mainly superficial wounds though those tend to scar after a while, the Templars don’t do anything else really beyond the odd fetish-related activity, usually leaving them wherever with the belief that their clan-mates will eventually find them… and that’s me saying that from experience. Anyway, now that the Mage Rebellion is over and with the Templars being mainly been deposed of by Corypheus, the rest is history.”

Lavellan uses a slight degree of finality to let him know she’s finished, but her words cause him to feel more incredulous than ever. As his mind reprocesses the information, she carefully uses her sleeve to wipe the tears that he hadn’t realized were falling down his face. While her explanation cleared up the result of her somewhat skewed emotions in this aspect anyway, it also explained the unusual scars that he had seen on her body in areas that would have traditionally not have been exposed to anything... In addition, that also explained why he found little areas of concern when he examined her physically... she already knew how to deal with the aftermath of such an encounter...

Still, her words left little wonder as to why she had immediately sought the help of the rebel mages instead of the Templars and hadn’t even spared a thought to consider them. After so many negative encounters with a clearly defined group of humans would cause anyone to cast an atrocious light on them, and those who shared similar characteristics. It was even more amazing considering how she found it within herself to trust humans once she had been drafted into the Inquisition, regardless if they were Templars or not with such horrendous experiences.

In all honesty, he didn’t find it strange given how her initial distrust for the Chantry before getting to know her beyond who Lavellan was as her clan’s First. The Dalish held the Chantry and anything connected to it in contempt due to the Exalted March of the Dales, so it wasn’t unreasonable for her to care less for the organization, especially since that way of thinking was usually passed down, creating additional prejudices. The fact that she had her own conclusions that were created as a result of her own personal experiences however was equally disheartening and even worse than grudges that were simply inherited.

Now that he thought about it, Lavellan’s seemingly disconnected feelings to being violated in front of her friends’ eyes was most likely the result of it occurring too many times and her almost resigned an uncaring outlook. Solas himself had seen similar behaviour in the past amongst former slaves who been sexually abused. While most of them were greatly traumatized and broken on the inside, there were those who no longer cared about what happened to their beaten bodies… though it might be appropriate to say that their capacity to do so was destroyed as they never knew anything aside from enslavement and servitude.

It was heartbreaking knowing that they would never be even comprehend or understand that the unspeakable horrors that they had endured were simply wrong and should never be considered something one was to simply expect in their lives…

Never would he dared to believe that such circumstances would be seen in his vhenan… Inflicted with scars that would never heal.

“Does no one care that this happens?” When Solas finally manages to muster enough strength to speak again and meet Lavellan’s gaze, she bitterly smiles with eyes that make his heart once again sink to his stomach.

“To anyone outside a clan, you mean? Of course not… though I’m more surprised that you’d even ask. It’s certainly an… optimistic way of thinking coming from someone who’s already very opinionated on the Dalish.” She lets out a small chuckle before shaking her head. “You honestly believe that any organization in Thedas would take the side of the elves, discounting the fact that the Dalish are even more shunned than those that live in the city? Aside from the Qunari and those from Tevinter, we’re probably the most looked down upon and marginalized people in Thedas despite our numbers. I mean sure, Ferelden has a better relationship with its elves, but the weight of whose words do you think is heavier when it comes to laws, policy or simply anything at all? We don’t even get the chance to participate in such discussions.”

“Take Cassandra’s Seekers, or even the Chantry before all this happened, given their relationship and history, don’t you think they’d have a bias towards what Templars say? Why in Mythal’s name would they take the word or even care what _Dalish elves_ say against the Templars about some alleged crime committed against those they consider non-persons? They don’t see us in their world. How would they perceive a problem with themselves affecting us when they don’t even acknowledge our existence? Well aside from being nuisances?”

“Simply because I’m _Dalish…._ It means to the eyes of shems that I’m worth less than those that live in the cities in the eyes of pretty much anyone who believes in the Chantry because I completely reject their Maker. To People like us, there is no reason for them to care about what their subordinate organizations do to us as long as they carry out their own tasks. You might say that because of this and what the horror stories I’ve heard from the Circles that the Templars simply saw fit that they could do whatever they wanted to anyone they pleased since it’s their Maker-given privilege, and the Chantry wouldn’t even care as long as _they were carrying on the Maker’s work._ ” There’s an undeniable sneer in her last words but aside from that, her demeanour was as calm and unmoved as ever. “The Templars face little to no repercussions in their actions towards us, so why would they stop? Even if there are those who aren’t as horrid as the ones who freely use the People for their own deviant means, I do not doubt the ones who are depraved will be able to find those of like mind who will be able to justify the same actions.”

“Besides, I’m surprised you’d even take the initiative to ask about this since you hardly seem interested in hearing about the Dalish. My story certainly isn’t unique and there are plenty of other Dalish who have had similar experiences. Those of us in stronger and larger clans however, are less likely to have such circumstances, since strength is king… At the same time, those who are weak do not choose and can only accept whatever hand they’re dealt… Of course the only reason why everyone seems to care about me now is mainly because I’m the Inquisitor… and when the Inquisition’s work is all done and everyone goes home, I’ll just be a normal Dalish again… out of sight and out of mind.”

Despite the bleakness of her response, he could not argue with her logic. He knew more than most that organizations tended to overlook their flaws, often without heeding the glaring obviousness, and if someone wanted to speak of crimes against an entity that has stood in the world for thousands of years… the chances of success would be borderline impossible. He also didn’t doubt that the same thing would happen to the Inquisition eventually given the third party interests in the organization, but right now, its existence was required by the rest of Thedas.

“You know Solas… I really envy you sometimes.” Lavellan’s voice is soft and quiet again as her hand holds a side of his face for a moment to have them see eye to eye as he trembles slightly at her touch. She knows him well enough to know that he can’t even refute her words at this point. “It must have been… extraordinarily amazing to encounter the most basic of respect wherever your travels took you… I don’t blame you for your views towards the Dalish given your encounters, but I also could never blame my People either for their reaction to you. Many of us have lived more… isolated lives for our own safety so hearing someone speak ill of anything we’ve managed to find or claim through the efforts of no one but ourselves, would obviously be provoke a bad reaction. We’ve never had anyone we could ever rely on or trust for centuries aside, and trust was a luxury that could never be afforded. Not after Halamshiral…”

He also had never truly considered the Dalish’s point of view because of his own experiences, but his vhenan’s explanation was a slap in the face considering how he never bothered trying to understand their point of view. Adding insult to injury, it was obvious for the Dalish to see him as a pariah now through her words. Just as it was shameful, ignorant and extremely naïve to think that they would accept the truth, rather the words of an unknown apostate…but even more, he could not help but regret his behaviour earlier. Insulting what little heritage she had had been one of the first things he had said to her before he even knew her, and was incredibly rude and uncalled for.

“Please… please don’t say anymore.” At this point, Lavellan had stopped talking, though not by her choice as Solas had pulled her into his embrace again almost desperately as to prevent her from speaking, burying her into his chest as if wanting to blend into her, and shutting his eyes as he did not dare to see her reaction. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for everything.” _And for everything you do not know of._ The circumstances of all the Dalish today was admittedly an inadvertent result of his tearing down everything the Evanuris stood for. Although such decisions were carried out with the best of intentions, the vacuum left behind without any action to change the ignorance of survivors only caused them to cling to existing beliefs. That ignorance however could not be blamed on them. So many were taught to worship the Evanuris without question, and so many had such doctrines had been beaten into the bones of numbers beyond counting. To question those who were revered as gods was to ask for death itself, and when those false gods fell silent, it was only natural for the Dread Wolf to be regarded as he was today, no matter how distorted the truth had become, and for the Evanuris to be venerated even more in attempt to somehow reach them.

Disregarding that, he had also left all elves forever vulnerable and nearly powerless now that so many could not feel what it was like to have magic coursing through one’s veins and the power of life through each and every one of their fingertips with the creation of the Veil… No one knew what they had lost, but him, and his actions had practically condemned every single elf today to a life of haplessness where they would never know of what they were missing or what they were meant to have….

Just as his vhenan was.

The brilliant light exhibited through her actions and character cast a deep and dark shadow that no one aside from him knew the existence of… though until now, he never knew the depth of darkness that she carried within her.

 _I’m sorry for what I did to you. I’m sorry for the burden that I’ve forced you to bear…_ Apology after apology is expressed in his mind with in the utmost of reverences to Lavellan though they remain unvoiced. Regardless of what he ever did in the future, nothing he could do would ever make up for everything that had been inflicted upon her. Nothing he could do could ever make it so that he could forgive himself... even if he exhausted a lifetime of efforts, it would mean little compared to nothing for what his vhenan was owed…

“….Vhenan? I wouldn’t be surprised if you wanted to sleep now given the time, but would you mind letting me get off of your first? I’d… prefer not to squish you while you slept.” Lavellan’s almost childish bell-like laughter strikes his heart in the most tender of places, as it rouses him from his thoughts.

“I apologize.” Almost hastily, Solas releases his arms from around her though it was still with some reluctance. He hadn’t realized that they had fallen down or that he was basically lying down with Lavellan directly on top of him. Such displays of weaknesses were extraordinarily rare for him, though it seemed that despite his best efforts, Lavellan could almost, with ease cause him to make them seemingly regular occurrences.

She smiles gently as always at his panicking reaction though there are hints of fatigue in her expression. “Don’t be. Please.” Her eyelids flutter slowly as she slips over and the utter defencelessness in her actions as she curls up beside him causes his heart to flush with embarrassment. Such simple actions were a testament to the trust and the love she had for him that he did not deserve. “Will I… see you in the Beyond tonight?”

There’s the tiniest trace of hesitation in her voice and she could tell that he wasn’t exactly comfortable with what she revealed, and likewise never said anything about how he even avoided her in the past weeks because of it. “Yes, vhenan. I swear you will.”

Solas is rewarded with another smile at that before Lavellan waves her hand, causing the lights to go out, and after a period of time, the only noise that can be heard is the sound of her breathing and the mountain winds outside.

It’s only when she’s asleep does Solas carefully move to kiss her forehead before gently caressing the side of her face as he guards her sleeping form. He's not entirely sure that he will discuss with Cassandra and Leliana about what happened given how the Chantry was looking to both of them as successors to the Chantry, despite how it may affect the future of the former Circle mages and Templars given his own plans, but for now, all Solas wants to do is rest.

Perhaps… in the future he will be able to tell his vhenan truth about himself, but for now, as Solas shuts his eyes and lies down next to Lavellan who unconsciously puts an arm around him, he promises that no matter what happens and wherever fate takes them, he will always watch over and look out for her in a world where he unfortunately acknowledges that no one will truly care aside from him about what happens to his vhenan beyond the Inquisition or ever will.

**Author's Note:**

> So... was going to stick this in the beginning notes, but decided not to since it got a bit personal... and _ranty._ Also, I've added to the contents of the apology that I stuck at the beginning because of em' sa or' nuem' asha's comment, which I admittedly still don't know how to respond to.
> 
> So... after a number of events in the media outlining various inappropriate acts that women have had to deal with, I’ve been nursing an anger towards the injustice that women deal with. From missing and murdered Indigenous women, insults from male politicians who think it's all 'fun' (seriously if a woman brought you into the world, you really should not be insulting anyone with her gender or anyone who wants to have a family), problems with an ex-broadcaster regarding violence and sexual workplace harassment, to news about a rather privileged American ex-swimmer getting off with a slap on the wrist and denying his own wrongdoings through the courts, then reading an article that a friend shared (https://medium.com/@laura.louise/michelle-marks-is-dead-brock-turner-is-a-rapist-men-are-still-blaming-literally-every-single-b107c02fada3#.h1u71or30)... I've been depressed to say in the least. If you ever get the chance to, I highly recommend you read the victim impact statement from that trial.
> 
> More recently, though admittedly not as severe, there's how women have to deal with discriminatory comments in courts of law... (http://nyti.ms/2aA9VZw) [btw, we have had legal cases in Canada where the freedom of speech _cannot infringe_ on other people's rights to not hear hate speech and be discriminated against], it just sucks to be female sometimes. Not even looking at how women are usually paid less and have to pay more for female-exclusive expenses due to gender (freakin haircuts), and biology, or how some people just say that we can't hold some jobs (sportswriters in particular [http://www.people.com/article/men-read-mean-tweets-female-sports-anchors]), many women can't even get equal treatment in the supposedly neutrals courts and are often treated poorly as they are victimized during court proceedings [this one particularly pissed me off:(http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/calgary/robin-camp-federal-court-judge-inquiry-committee-report-1.3874314)]... and sometimes aren't even treated with the basics of human dignity (http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/edmonton/sex-assault-victim-jailed-judge-edmonton-1.4140533) even when whatever seems to happen to them as the result of someone else's actions... and as they are blamed for the offender's actions despite being the victims. It's even sadder to see that despite the severity of some cases, the events which occur to many women never seems to be enough to warrant equality and justice. Of course there are tons of naysayers, but I honestly doubt that they wouldn’t change their opinion if such an incident happened to someone they loved and cared about personally. 
> 
> Anyway this fill was written partially because of these bottled emotions I had. I’m tried to keep Lavellen an her choices as default and ambiguous as possible save for a few things... though I'm going to say that I never wanted the ending to be even remotely... positive. Mainly because it's a bit disheartening since that as a girl and woman, I've unfortunately acknowledged how there's such higher likelihood of us being disregarded since we are simply not male (need to add that all my guy friends are amazing people and ive never had problems with them, but my experiences aren't universally shared), but such tragedies as rape will likely continue to occur simply because of the way our biology is the way it is.... (though I also acknowledge that this happens to males though the rate is lower).... *sigh*


End file.
